Young Writers Society

~1041

The Captain? Kerra asked, aghast. But… why? Why would she do something like that?

I’ve been asking myself the same question over and over again, Everen admitted.

Kerra scrambled for ideas, but the thought that the captain that Everen had always described as amazing and inspiring could do something like this was absurd. Can’t the motes tell you anything?

They can only tell that she’s feeling massively guilty right now, more so than anyone else on the ship. But they can’t read her mind, and any other emotions she’s feeling that might hint at a motive are being obscured by the amount of guilt she feels. Everen sent a feeling of helplessness. She was getting a lot better at sending clear, strong emotions. The motes must have been giving her a lot of practice with it.

Kerra didn’t know what to say anymore. She only wished she had the motes to tell her who killed her mother. That would make everything a lot easier. Or would it? Do you have any proof other than these aliens’ word that it was her?

No! And that’s the most difficult part about it! I know who it is, but I don’t know how to prove it! Without even a motive, I’m lost.

Kerra considered this as she began to pace around her apartment. It was a habit that she’d picked up ever since she’d had stacks of fertilizer in her home. Even if she did magically know who’d killed her mother, it would still be nigh impossible to prove it to the police. All the evidence would still point to suicide, no matter what Kerra said. Maybe you’ll just have to poke around some more and find some, Kerra suggested. She knew it was unhelpful, but she was just as stuck on this problem as Everen.

You’re probably right. Ugh. I’d better get back to work. Please don’t tell Abyssia about this conversation or anything.

Of course not. I’m only supposed to pass on messages from the captain, not from my sister. Kerra grinned. She’d never have believed that she was capable of so much intrigue and mischief. If only Shandi could see her now.

I’m sorry to hear about your dead-end lead. I hope you find a new one soon! Everen sent a feeling of hope, and then closed the connection.

Just before Kerra was about to do the same, she felt a brief something. It was the feeling you get when you know you’ve forgotten something important but can’t remember for the life of you what it is. Kerra had been getting this feeling for a while now, but she’d always brushed it off. But this time, it came stronger. It almost felt like déjà vu: there was a familiarity to it. When she closed the connection, the feeling went away.

Kerra was about to shrug it off and start combing through the list of Abyssians again, but something stopped her. Maybe it was Everen talking nonstop about these weird aliens that talked to her through the connection when she wasn’t focused on anything in particular that made her do it. Maybe she thought that the motes were somehow trying to contact her too, from hundreds of lightyears away.

Maybe she recognized what it was on a subconscious level.

But regardless of what made her do it, Kerra reopened the connection. The feeling came back almost at once. She tried to focus on it, and while it didn’t seem to get any clearer, it did get stronger. Whatever it was, it was impossible to think about.

Hello? She sent to the nothingness. Motes? Is that you?

But the thing didn’t respond like Everen had said the motes did.

Kerra didn’t know what to do, so she sat down on the floor to look at the tablet with the list of Abyssians. She kept the connection open, and the feeling thrummed in the background of her mind. She poured over it for a while, trying to find another lead, someone who could have possibly done it.

The feeling grew and grew as she worked. At a point, she realized that it was so powerful, she was having trouble seeing clearly, so she closed her eyes and tried to figure out what was nagging at her from the connection. Soon her vision was completely gone. She could only see blue. She briefly wondered if this was because of her circuitry, but she pushed that thought aside when she saw two shadowy figures emerging from the blueness.

One of the figures stopped where it was, so Kerra couldn’t make out much more than a vaguely person-shaped shadow, but the other figure came closer, becoming clearer. The feeling of forgetting something, of déjà vu, was so powerful that Kerra could hardly feel anything else.

She did feel her stomach drop though, when she suddenly recognized who was walking toward her.

Shandi.

It was her. Kerra could tell from the way she walked, and then from the way she held herself, and finally, she was looking straight into her dead sister’s face. It was as if she were seeing her through a blue haze, but it was Shandi alright.

Shandi? Kerra sent into the void of the connection.

The ghost in front of her broke into a grin. The feeling all around her coalesced into a single word. Kerra. The sound and feeling of the word echoed all around her.

I’m going crazy, Kerra sent, but it was more of a thought to herself.

Shandi, or the thing that looked like Shandi, shook her head with a sad smile.

You can’t be real, Kerra insisted.

Shandi shrugged. I am here, came Shandi’s voice. It remained echoey and distant.

It felt weird to talk to her this way. Kerra could still sense that the direct connection that she’d had to her sister was still severed, but here they were, able to communicate anyway.

I’ve been trying to talk to you for so long. The ghost of Shandi looked worn out, lacking Shandi’s usual zeal. I’m stuck. It’s hard… to talk. I’ve… missed you.

A tear streaked down Kerra’s cheek, and suddenly she didn’t care if it was just a dream brought on by stress. I’ve missed you too.